Home life in a small garden in Weed, California
Gardener by day, Pyrate by night...

A Garden Amongst The Weeds

Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Storm

Like angry, ancient pagan gods,
dancing in a moonlit, starry sky.
What is it they seek?

Love?
Hope?
Happiness?
Hearts scorned and angry?
What is it the skies are saying?

I step out and smell the acrid, burnt electricity,
hair whipping in my face and breathe deeply and wonder.
And watch the lightning play against the distant, lonely hills.
My heartbeat responding to the booming thunder.

I feel small but hear nature calling.
I feel her pull
and wonder.

The skies open up and its suddenly a downpour,
the cool rain pelting my skin and I shiver.

What are you saying?

I stretch my arms out wide
and breathe the storm in deeply.
Lightning cracks overhead.
What is it you seek?